


a bright one caught your fancy eye

by chailattemusings



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: F/M, M/M, animal death mention cw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-21
Updated: 2014-12-21
Packaged: 2018-03-02 13:47:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2814173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chailattemusings/pseuds/chailattemusings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nano's dryad tree lost its leaves every autumn, and it was up to Lalna to figure out what to do with them. They were magical, wanted by fae and witch alike, and with so many leaves falling from Nano's tree, Lalna had to use all of his options. Dealing with fae was always a tricky path to navigate, though, and the summer sidhe lord of the city was the most dangerous of them all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a bright one caught your fancy eye

Every year, Nano's tree grew leaves in such thick bunches, even the birds had a hard time landing on her branches, and they shone bright green under the sun, flat and round and inviting. Nano took care of her tree and made sure each leaf had the proper color and shape, and if they didn't, she would spend a few weeks waiting for it to recover before clipping it, keeping the tree's attention on the healthy leaves. Nano never made decisions about her leaves lightly, and when she cut them, she gave them to Lalna.

Disposing of such leaves meant more than Lalna had ever thought it would.

Dryad leaves weren't the same as the leaves of other trees, and when Nano gave him a spare leaf, whether it had any chlorophyll left or it had dried past the point of holding a semblance of life, it put the burden on Lalna to find _something_ to do with it. 

Leaves were good for potions, and usually, Lalna dumped the leaves in the first brew that needed it, working with Nano in their alternatives supply shop. Animal parts were always needed, and even if there _were_ enough for everyone to mindlessly kill an animal when they wanted something, it was unacceptable to most of the humans in the city, and so Lalna and Nano spent their days making replacement parts, living bits from clay and magic that would serve just as well as the real thing, for the spells of others. 

The problem of Nano's leaves arose during the autumn. Her tree turned red and gold for a few short months, and when the end of November rolled around, the leaves started falling. Nano spent a half hour each morning running around the base of her tree, collecting the leaves into her arms and running them back inside. By the time Lalna awoke, there was usually a pile on the kitchen counter, with Nano sitting beside them, a cup of tea in her hands.

Some of the leaves, they could use. An entire tree's worth over the course of autumn, they could not, and Lalna forced himself to swallow his anxiety as he thought of how exactly to get rid of this year's batch. 

Coffee helped, and Lalna leaned against the kitchen counter on a late autumn morning, while Nano flicked through a magazine. 

The garbage court wasn't an option, Lalna could only imagine the chaos they could conduct with a dryad's leaves. They already tried to get at Nano's tree in their spare time, and Lalna wouldn't have their trouble coming to his doorstep. 

Lomadia and Nilesy could probably use a few, and it didn't hurt to have Lomadia owe him a favor. Nilesy would use them more, probably. Leaves pressed into the grooves of a rune would increase the power and durability of his charms.

Xephos might want some, as well. His hedgewitch magic was different than Lomadia's in a way that Lalna had never been able to put his finger on, but probably had something to do with the fact that Xephos had managed to _accidentally_ make two homunculi and sent one of them on his merry way to live with a dryad. 

That left quite a few leaves left over, though. Lalna wasn't close with anyone else in the city. Selling them was an option, and something they'd done in years past, but it unsettled him, not knowing who would buy the leaves and why. Fae could manage to get their hands on some that way, and fae holding on to bits of other fae's magic, even the weak leftovers of a dryad's leaves, could mean disaster and too many poorly made deals gone wrong. Lalna frowned into his coffee, sipping it carefully to avoid burning his tongue.

The one person left was someone Lalna didn't care to think about, but someone he had to consider anyway. 

Kirin always liked having some of Nano's leaves, and they were good for paying off debts. Anything owed to Kirin could be paid back with their own magic, and Kirin had gladly taken Nano's leaves in the past. They weren't alive and held few traces of life after changing color and falling from her branches, but Kirin was thrilled nonetheless, and Lalna shuddered to think what he might be doing with them. For all he knew, the sidhe lord was putting them in those tea concoctions of his and giving drinks to unsuspecting customers.

That felt low, even for Kirin, though, and Lalna shook his head to dispel the thought. They didn't have much choice but to give and sell to whoever would take the leaves, otherwise they'd be left getting rid of them. Lalna had tried using the leaves as fertilizer once, but he wasn't much of a gardener to begin with, and the magic did something funny to the plants that Lalna didn't care to deal with. The flowers had grown a bit more vibrant than they were supposed to that year, and he'd had more than one fae knocking on their door and asking for a sample from the garden. 

His decision-- _mostly_ \-- made, Lalna finished the rest of his coffee and pushed off from the counter. “I've got some work to do,” he said, eyeing the leaves on the kitchen table. “Will you be all right, here by yourself?”

Nano beamed from between the pages of her magazine. “I'm fine. I can start work on that knitting project I've been meaning to do, Lomadia gave me this really nice yarn.”

Lalna paused, raising an eyebrow. “She _gave_ it to you, or you _goaded_ her into it?”

Nano's smile twisted, amused and sheepish. “I may have said one or two things to convince her that I needed it, but don't worry! She knew what I was getting at. I owe her a small favor and she'll probably just use it to get some supplies from the shop without exchanging money, that's all.”

Favors with fae were dangerous, even if the fae was the one who owed somebody. Lalna's eyes narrowed, and he said, “If she swings 'round, don't let her take too much. She deals with Kirin and she knows her way around a bargain.”

Nano waved her hand, looking back at her magazine. “I know, I know. Go get your errands done so you can be back here and we can work on molding some extra cat teeth, all right?”

Lalna patted her on the head, ruffling her dark, thick strands of hair, so much like the strong branches of her tree in the way they curled around her head, and moved out of the kitchen to grab what he needed. First things were first, he needed a bag to carry the leaves in. Ideally, he would dry them out and crush them, but the last time he'd done that, Xephos had complained about difficulty working with them, and Kirin mentioned something about the leaves losing power if the veins in their flesh were broken. 

The storage closet sat at the back of the house, and Lalna rooted through it for something that could hold the leaves and wouldn't be bothered by the wetness or dirt. Nano had gathered them off the ground, out of the early frosts and snow, and they'd dripped all over the kitchen. He didn't want to wait for them to dry out, not when he could get rid of them sooner than that.

Eventually he scrounged up a duffle bag, and hooked it over his shoulder. It had a tie at the top and a thick strap, able to hold about a hundred pounds, sturdy enough that he could use it without fear of the bag breaking or being damaged by the leaves themselves. Lalna carried it back to the kitchen, and saw Nano's chair empty. She'd gone to start her work, then.

Lalna laid the duffle on the kitchen floor and started piling leaves into it. He wasn't the most talented at magic, but he had a greater sense for it than humans, as a being created from it. He could feel the way the leaves pulsed faintly, how they itched to use the last of the dying magic trapped in them when they fell off Nano's tree. She imbued every part of herself with magic about growth and life, and it kept the leaves fresh even after falling. If Lalna didn't sell or give the leaves away soon, they would use up every last bit of magic they had trying uselessly to stay alive.

It made a mess, gathering them all up in the bag. By the end of it, wet dirt was scattered across the floor, the duffle, and Lalna's hands. He scraped it off on his jeans, standing carefully, and yanked the cord at the top of the bag to tie it closed. It barely weighed anything more than it did when it was empty, most of the weight made up of the dampness still clinging to the leaves. Lalna hefted it again, and went to the front hall to grab his coat and scarf.

Nano stood there with both already in her arms. “Good luck,” she said, holding the coat out for him. Lalna set the bag down and slipped his arms into it, smiling as Nano pulled it up around his neck and tucked the edges in place. “Are you going to the same people?”

“Xephos, Lomadia, Nilesy, probably a few of the specialty shops in town.” Lalna ticked them off on his fingers as Nano moved to his front, tying the scarf around his neck. “And . . . Kirin, I suppose.” Lalna pursed his lips at the thought. 

“He's done business with us before,” Nano said, pulling the scarf tight, and picked up the bag. Lalna took it from her, and moved to the door to slip on his boots. 

“And he tries to wheedle himself deals every time.” Lalna tapped his toes on the floor to ensure the boots sat correctly on his feet, and bent down to tighten the laces. “I won't give him anything without a solid agreement that leaves him no room to negotiate. He's got all that natural magic wound up in there and it freaks me out every time, I'm not letting him get an upper hand in all this.” Lalna stood, grasping the strap of the duffle bag tightly. 

Nano nodded along and kissed his cheek when he stood up. “Have fun, I'll be here when you get back. Don't get eaten.” She said it in a light hearted tone, but there was a threat underneath, a hint of worry that they were both familiar with. In this city, being eaten wasn't the most far fetched of possibilities. 

Lalna trudged outside, heavy boots crunching on the layer of frost and snow that had settled over the sidewalk leading to their house. It had snowed the night before, just enough to stick, and a thin layer of white covered everything that was open to the sky. Footprints followed him out of the house, and Nano, standing by the door, was quick to grab the broom just inside the doorway and start sweeping the footprints away. They wouldn't be having any fae following the footprints up to the house. 

The first stop was easy enough. Xephos lived far enough away that he and Lalna didn't often cross paths, but he wasn't on the other side of the city, and after a quick bus ride, Lalna stood in front of his door, a hand on the fence gate at the edge of their property.

The autumn garden in their front lawn, so full with fruits when Lalna had last seen it, was barren now, empty soil overturned and only the last remnants of harvest plants in it. There were freshly dug rows where bulbs had been planted for the spring, and everything else had been uprooted, used for food or spells until the soil became usable again when winter ended. 

The lights were on in the house, and Lalna could see bodies moving through the fogged living room window. With a deep breath, he unlatched the gate, closed it, and walked up to the door. The gate was an extra measure for intruders, another threshold to cross, but without walls and a roof, it didn't count as a shelter from the city, merely a border around Xephos' home. Fae could walk in, if they tried hard enough, but it was enough to deter the weakest of them from making the attempt. 

Lalna knocked on the door and waited, rocking on his heels. Rather than Xephos, though, Honeydew opened the door, blinking a couple times at the sight of Lalna on his front porch. “Er,” he said, and scratched his head.

“Hi.” Lalna coughed and gave him a little wave. “I'm just visiting today. I have something to give Xephos.” He hefted the duffle bag for emphasis, looking down at Honeydew hopefully. Sometimes he confused the two Lalnas, and though he _should_ have known his child after Xephos had summoned them both and let one Lalna live with them, he still squinted every time Lalna visited, like he would claim to be Honeydew's when he'd just seen his own Lalna in the kitchen. 

After a moment, it clicked, and Honeydew nodded rapidly. “Of course, come on in, it's cold out.” He stepped aside to let Lalna in, carefully shutting and locking the door behind him. “I didn't expect to see you today.”

“Nano's leaves are dropping,” Lalna said, by way of explanation. “Where's Xephos?”

“Oi!” Honeydew grunted, hands on his hips as he blocked the door to the living room, keeping Lalna in the entryway. “Don't I get any acknowledgement? I'm your bloody surrogate father and you haven't visited in weeks!”

“Oh-- sorry.” Lalna scratched at the back of his head, and Honeydew grabbed his arm, yanking Lalna down to his level and putting arms around his neck.

“It's good to see you,” Honeydew said, rubbing over his back, underneath the duffle. He released Lalna and gave him a crooked grin. “Xephos worries, you know. You being with a dryad and all. You're as much ours as the Lalna who lives here, we want you safe.”

“I'm--” Lalna swallowed. “I'm all right, don't worry.”

“I figured.” Honeydew turned and walked into the living room, and Lalna discarded his boots and coat, leaving the scarf on, before following.

Will was holed up in the living room, curled up in an armchair and flipping through a gardening magazine. He looked up as they walked in, eyebrows raising at the sight of Lalna with a duffle. Will, thankfully, could always tell the Lalnas apart, and he set his magazine down on the coffee table, standing up. “Lalna,” he said, extending his arm. Lalna took it in a heavy handshake, smiling awkwardly. They hadn't quite graduated to hugs, not seeing each other unless Lalna decided to visit. Will drew back immediately, eyeing the duffle. “We haven't seen you around for a while.”

“Well, when duty calls.” Lalna patted the bag. “Dryad leaves, for Xephos. I figured he would want some after what he did with last year's batch.” 

“Oh!” Will blinked, and looked at the bag again. Will had arrived over the summer, not present for the last time Lalna had dropped off Nano's extra leaves, and he stared at the bag for a few minutes as Honeydew scurried around to get a hold of Xephos. 

Lalna shifted on his feet. “I guess dryad leaves wouldn't interest you much. A technomancer.”

Will looked up sharply, shoulders hunching up before he forced them to relax. “Right, uh, yeah. They aren't useful for my kind of magic.” His eyes still lingered on the bag, though, and Lalna opened his mouth to say something else, when heavy footsteps crossed into the doorway from the kitchen, and he turned, to see Xephos standing with hands on his hips, lips in a thin line.

“Xephos,” Lalna said, facing him fully. Next to him, Will slunk back to his armchair, picking up the magazine again. Lalna ignored it, pulling his bag closer. “How have you been?”

His expression loosened, and Xephos let his hands fall to his side. “Fine, Lalna. You'll have to forgive, ah, _our_ Lalna, but he's in the basement doing some computer thing.” Xephos waved a hand, dismissing the idea. Xephos never was a good one with technology, which was why having Will around helped. 

“It's fine,” he said quickly. “It's always sort of weird having us together anyway, isn't it?”

Xephos nodded jerkily. “Right. Yeah.”

“Come on then!” Honeydew gestured to Lalna, flicking his fingers. “Show him your stuff, I'm sure you have other people to talk to about it.”

He did, and Lalna straightened up, pulling the bag off his shoulder and setting it on the floor. 

Dryad leaves always had a different quality than nonmagical leaves. They retained their color longer, and didn't often fall off until a nasty frost bit them. Nano had shivered for days after the last frost they caught, and snapped off quite a few leaves that weren't already on the ground. Many of the ones she'd given Lalna still had a bit of green in them, and just that hint of life made them more valuable than if they'd changed color completely. 

Lalna opened the bag and reached in, pulling out a few leaves. The dampness stuck to his gloves and dripped over the wood floor, and he shook them lightly before stretching his hand out, offering them up to Xephos. “Nano gathered them this morning,” he said. “They should be useful for spells and potions, and most of the other work you do.” 

Honeydew took a half step around the bag, giving Xephos and Lalna room to talk to each other, bending over the bag to peek into the top of it.

Xephos took the leaves from Lalna, handling them with dainty fingers, like he were grabbing a butterfly's wings and they might fall apart if he touched too roughly. For anyone else, Lalna wouldn't dare let them handle the leaves, wouldn't give them the chance to take any from under his nose, but Lalna trusted Xephos. He'd made him in the first place, out of magic and clay, and he could easily trust him not to steal some slightly magical leaves. 

Xephos handed them back with a quiet grunt. “They're nice, Lalna. I'd like to have a few.”

“All right.” Lalna put them back and closed the bag. “Feel like having some tea while we discuss the price?”

With a lopsided smile, Xephos nodded and turned to the kitchen. “Tea sounds wonderful.”

 

* * *

 

A few charms and potions promised to him later, Lalna left the house, ducking away from Will's curious gaze and running down the front steps. Whatever had piqued Will's sudden interest in organic matter, Lalna didn't want to know, and he hurried to the next bus stop to find his way to Nilesy and Lomadia's house.

Lomadia was at work, unfortunately. Lalna had come out on a Saturday on purpose, but, according to Nilesy, her schedule included weekends now.

“She's so busy,” he said, scratching the back of his neck, leaning against the doorway of their shared house. “I have a hard enough time cleaning my half of the house, and now hers is falling apart. She's always talking to Kirin-- I, uh.” Nilesy blushed suddenly, and Lalna frowned. Nilesy shook his head and stepped back, waving a hand inside. “Come on in, we can talk about what you want for some of those leaves.”

Nilesy was even easier than Xephos, although he tried to make a better deal than he really could, attempting the tactics Lomadia had loosely taught him. Lalna navigated his weaker negotiation skills with ease and managed to seal the deal for a new set of tokens from Nilesy, that would take away any pain from the animals he and Nano worked with. 

There were a few shops in town that Lalna could visit, places run by magicians and witches that used dryad leaves as basic ingredients for spells, and Lalna visited each in turn to look for something he wanted. He snagged extra spell ingredients for himself, settling them in the bottom of the duffle after trading the leaves, knowing he couldn't come back later and that the promise of strangers wasn't as good as that of his friends. He also picked up a blank notepad with a watercolor print on the front cover. The print showed an artistic interpretation of a dryad resting in a forest, and Lalna easily slipped the small notebook in his pocket. Nano liked taking notes during her work.

Two thirds of the leaves gone, and there was one final place to stop before he went back home. Lalna swallowed as he waited at the bus stop, his hand tight around the strap of the duffle. Kirin would undoubtedly try to take advantage of him, and he had to be on his toes, looking for any sign that the faerie would screw him over. He'd tried it on Lalna several times and nearly succeeded once. Lalna had the sneaking suspicion that Kirin had left him and Nano alone on purpose and that was the only thing saving them right now.

He dropped down from the bus, on the street in front of the shop, and hesitated before walking up. It was open, but even if it wasn't, Kirin lived in the small house immediately adjacent and Lalna didn't have much of an excuse for not going in. With a deep breath, he walked up, and grabbed the handle, pushing it as gently as he could to avoid the tinkle of the bell above the door.

It still rang, and the sound of the bell sent shivers down Lalna's spine. It always sounded as though there were several bells ringing at once, even though every time he looked up, he could only see one bolted into the wall, its string swinging back and forth with the weight of a tiny metal sphere attached to the end. 

When his gaze fell back on the shop, Lalna saw Kirin sitting at the front counter, leaning over it with his face resting in his palm, elbows firm on the hard wood. “Lalna,” he said, and his eyes narrowed for a moment. “How are you and Nanosounds doing?” 

Almost no one called Nano by her full name. Lalna straightened up. “We're doing fine,” he said, perhaps a hair too quickly. “Nano's tree is shedding its leaves for the autumn.”

“I can see.” Kirin's eyes darted to the bag on Lalna's shoulder. “And I suppose you'll be wanting to trade some of those?”

“For basic supplies, yes.” Lalna didn't hesitate to specify wanting material objects. Kirin would be all too quick to offer favors, and he dare not take favors from a faerie. Kirin would leverage it over him like a noose until Lalna choked on his own inability to talk his way out of a loophole. He owed Nano too much to let another faerie hold anything over him.

“Very well.” Kirin stepped out from behind the counter, hands clasped behind his back. “What is it that you want? Or did you even bother to think about it ahead of time?” 

“Herbs,” Lalna said quickly, shifting the bag on his shoulder. It weighed almost nothing but the motion gave him something to do as his eyes scanned over the shop. “Rosemary, cloves, some chamomile flowers. I can trade you a decent amount of leaves for that.” He'd nearly used the word 'give' and that would have put the entire exchange in jeopardy. 

Kirin glanced around his shop, lips just slightly quirked up. “I can do that. Wait here.”

Lalna went stiff, watching Kirin browse through some of the heavy wooden shelves, parsing through baskets that held small plastic packets of dried herbs, thumbing over them until he found what he needed and carefully selected it. “The chamomile is in the greenhouse,” he said, clutching several packets in one fist. “Is it all right if the flowers aren't dried?”

“Fine,” Lalna said, resisting the urge to lick his lips as his heart beat faster. 

Kirin flashed him a smile that made him shudder, and turned to take the back door outside, to the greenhouses that stood behind his shop. In the city, finding room for a decent shop, let alone a house, shop, _and_ a greenhouse, was nigh impossible, but if anyone could have managed it, it was Kirin. Lalna had come to the city when Kirin already had his claws hooked in nearly every corner of it, and to find his own niche with Nano had been a blessing. They got good business and Lalna wouldn't mess it up by letting Kirin pull the hood of hospitality over his eyes. 

When he returned, Kirin held a few blossoms in his hand, and went to the counter, picking out a small paper bag from the shelves beside it. He tossed in the items and rolled the top of the bag closed, turning around and handing it to Lalna. “I think you'll find everything you want.” 

For Kirin to give Lalna his product before he'd even seen what kind of leaves Lalna had showed either great respect, or great cockiness, and Lalna could bet on which. 

He quickly unrolled the bag and looked inside at the items, eyes narrowed. “We don't need this many packs of cloves,” he said, “and is this lavender?” He reached in and plucked out several short stems with dainty purple blooms. “I didn't ask for this,” he said, looking Kirin in the eyes, bracing himself at the sight of such bright blue irises. 

“I thought a small gift would be in order,” Kirin said, leaning with one hand gripping the counter's edge. “Since you came all the way out here to make a trade.”

“No.” Lalna quickly removed every piece of lavender from the bag and set them on the nearest wooden table, beside a stack of ceramic pots, careful not to damage them. Breaking a gift, even one not accepted, would have him in Kirin's debt for snubbing a kind offer. “We don't need extra,” he said.

Kirin grinned, all teeth. “I was only trying to be kind.”

Lalna rolled his eyes and pulled the duffle bag off his shoulder. “I appreciate the offer, but no. Take your leaves and I'll be on my way.” He opened the bag and pulled out a few of the leaves, eyebrow raised. 

Kirin reached forward, but Lalna jerked back. “You can look at them,” Lalna said. “I trusted you to choose my herbs without me touching them, I expect the same.”

He dropped his hand and sighed, a little puff of breath as his lips quirked up. “Very well. Are these any different from last year?”

Lalna held the bag between his feet as it settled on the mossy floor of Kirin's shop, lifting a few of the leaves. “They have some of the chlorophyll left,” Lalna said, pointing to the greener spots, “and Nano picked them as soon as they fell, they weren't lingering off the tree very long. They have plenty of magic left in them for your spells, or . . . whatever it is you plan to do.” He made a face, and smoothed his expression as best he could. “I've used them for fertilizer, but it tends to attract other fae.”

Kirin glanced at the leaves. “Yes, compost can be good for organic items. As for other fae, well.” He shrugged. “I do not believe that will be an issue.”

That sent tingles down Lalna's spine, and he worked through them, hands nearly crushing the leaves between his fingers. “A few packs of herbs and some flowers,” Lalna said, glancing back inside the bag Kirin had given him. “How about a couple dozen leaves and we call it?”

Kirin straightened up, nodding, as Lalna picked out more leaves and started setting them on the table beside him. He counted exactly twenty four and spread them out, choosing the best looking ones but saving some of the greener leaves, dropping them back in the bag as he grabbed them without letting Kirin see them. He and Nano needed _something_ and he'd be damned to give Kirin the best of it.

“Nice,” Kirin said, picking up one of the leaves. “I can see the magic still in them. It was kind of you to travel all the way out here.” He leveled Lalna with a look, eyes searching his face. “Is there anything else I can do for you? Something else you'd like to buy, perhaps a gift for Nano?” He waved vaguely at his many shelves where potted plants rested as innocently as plants could. “It must be so hard for her, unable to leave the house for very long.”

Lalna stiffened, and patted his pocket, feeling the hard corners of the notepad. “I already have a gift for her. So, if that's all you need.” He pulled the tie on the bag closed, and slipped it back over his shoulder. “I'll be going.”

Kirin straightened, turning back to the counter and stepping behind it. He grabbed another paper bag, larger than the one he'd given Lalna, and moved to the table to sweep the leaves into it, rolling the top closed and setting it beside the aged cash register on the counter's edge. “In that case, we are finished.” He crossed his arms as he tilted his head toward the door. “I'll see you around, Lalna. I suppose you and Nano have work to do, incapacitating animals and making clay substitute parts.”

Lalna bit the edge of his tongue. “Better than swiping technomancers from under the nose of an anxiety-ridden hedgewitch.” 

Kirin's eyes narrowed, and the door clicked, pulling open even though Kirin hadn't gone near it. “Goodbye, Lalna.”

“Goodbye.”

Lalna pushed the door open wide and stepped outside, glancing back at the shop as the door slipped shut. He could see Kirin's form through the ice fogged windows, walking back and forth through the front room. If he squinted, Lalna thought he could see something drifting behind his body, something long and thin and _moving_ , but he didn't spare more than a few moments thinking about it, turning with his nearly empty bag and making his way back to the bus station. 

It was late afternoon when he finally made it back home, and nearing toward evening. Lalna hurried, glancing about for cigarettes butts or the glint of stained glass. Thankfully he saw nothing, and firmly latched his front door once inside, double checking the locks before he shed his coat and scarf.

“Lal!” Nano leaped and hugged him from behind, wrapping her arms tight around his torso. “I missed you,” she crooned, hands locking together in front of him to hold him in place. 

Lalna struggled weakly. “Nano, I have to put the bag down. I got goodies for us.”

“Oh!” She broke off immediately and started tugging at the duffle bag. “Come on, then, let us have a look!” 

Laughing as Nano yanked at it, Lalna pulled the duffle off his shoulder and set it gently on the floor of the front foyer. “Spell ingredients, a couple potions, tokens from Nilesy, the usual,” he said, as he laid everything out. “We'll get Xephos and Nilesy's stuff later, and I picked out everything from the shops. And, here.” He reached deep in his pocket and pulled out the notepad, offering it on a flat palm.

Nano squealed and snatched it, thumbing the print on the front.

“We should be able to set the shop up for a few weeks, at least, with all this,” Lalna said, unable to hide a smile as Nano admired her gift. “I even managed to keep some of your leaves for us.” Lalna dug into the bottom of the bag and pulled out the last few leaves, greener than any of them and still pulsing with a weak magic. He couldn't feel it strongly, but he knew they were good choices when Nano beamed and grabbed them.

She brushed her fingers gently over the veins of the leaves, humming as she looked them over. “Wonderful, Lalna,” she said, and grabbed the back of his neck, dragging him in to plant a wet kiss on his cheek. “Such a good little homunculus!”

“Hey!” Lalna pushed her off with a laugh. “I'm not some servant.”

“But you are _mine_.” Nano's tone turned dark, her eyes getting a possessive glint, as she ruffled Lalna's hair. “Come on, we've got to feed the brownies before they get restless!” She bounced up, rocking on her heels and still holding the leaves, cradling them in her fingers. She threw Lalna a meaningful smile before marching down the foyer and into the kitchen.

Lalna spent a moment sitting on the floor, looking down at all of their loot and the bag now soaked from the damp leaves it had housed all day. His eyes rested on the paper bag, the one Kirin had given him. He grabbed it and slipped open the top, peering inside again.

He frowned, and took out the supplies. Four packets of dried rosemary, the chamomile flowers he'd asked for, and . . .

Eight packets of cloves, far too many for what he'd offered to Kirin in exchange. Lalna had forgotten to give him the extra back.

He'd taken extra supplies from Kirin after making it clear he didn't need the luxury. Lalna's heart leaped into his throat as he snapped the bag shut. Damn it all to fucking hell, he would owe Kirin for this. And if Lalna knew anything about fae, Kirin was already aware of the advantage, had been aware from the moment Lalna walked out his door. 

“Lalna?”

He jumped, and cursed, stumbling to get to his feet, to stand without his legs shaking. “Yeah?” he asked, his voice weak.

“What do you want for dinner?” Nano asked, and as Lalna moved to the kitchen doorway, he saw her already boiling a pot of water, peering in the cabinets above the stove for ingredients. 

“D-Don't worry about that,” Lalna assured her, walking in with heavy feet and touching her shoulder gently, urging her away from the stove. “I'll make dinner tonight.”

“But you did all the trading with the leaves!” Nano glanced to the kitchen table, where she'd laid the leaves out in rows to properly dry, and to examine the individual ones for their best traits. “The least I could do is make dinner and let you rest for a night, after all that.” 

Lalna's eyes drifted over the leaves, and across the counter, where Nano had set out a bowl of milk and cream for the brownies that snuck around their house, drawn by Nano's magic and proving, thus far, to be helpful with the housework as long as Nano and Lalna put cream out for them. 

The water bubbled as heat rose up. It would be boiling in minutes, and Nano looked at him with narrow eyes, her brow furrowed. 

“I'll take care of it,” he assured her, pushing her gently again, until Nano had backed up from the stove. “Why don't you decide how we'll parcel out the leaves, all right? I'm sure there are some better suited to the potion work than others, and I could use a bit more of your magic for my garden this year.”

Nano perked up at that, though there was still a trace of annoyance as she said, “You mean _my_ garden, because we plant everything _you_ want and then I end up taking care of it all.”

“Right, your garden,” Lalna said placatingly, turning to take charge of the boiling water. “I'll make us some beef stew and maybe a bit of vegetables, how does that sound?”

Nano grinned at the prospect of cooked meat, which she didn't get often because Lalna didn't like to tempt her. Their business was founded on saving animals and transmuting body parts for witches who didn't want the animals dead, but her fae instincts couldn't be tamed by the nature of their shop. And she liked beef, in particular. 

With Nano sated, bobbing her head in agreement to the suggestion before she grabbed a kitchen chair and sat herself down to look at the leaves, Lalna turned and stared at the water. It bubbled up, steam rising slowly, and his heart pounded, thinking of the extra cloves he'd accepted by mistake.

He would go back to Kirin's shop tomorrow and return them. A fair price was a fair price, and Kirin wouldn't blame him for bringing back the extra.

He hoped.


End file.
